Year 7: The Eyes of the Queen
by Brinstone
Summary: My unauthorized version of Book 7. OC and main charas.


Chapter 1:

All My Mistakes

I was never a handsome man. I'm still not considered attractive in the world of women. At least not in the conventional sense. Women who do find me at all appealing have always considered me for the intrigue and mystery that I provide in their lives. Some of them find my bad temper and antisocial tendencies alluring. I can't for the life of me imagine why.

If I am antisocial and unpleasant, it is because I am being so for a purpose. I probably don't like you very much, and would like you to excuse yourself from my presence. If I persist to the point of personal insult, that probably means I would like to turn you into something that can't survive in an oxygen based environment.

Although I have always had all of the above going against me, I always had one thing going for me.

The one thing in my life that I managed to do right, was worth every pain-filled moment of my existence.

That thing: Marian Lanfear.

Marian was the Queen of our class. She was smart, sexy, and always doing things you would never want your mother to know about. She had as many boyfriends as she did girlfriends, although those relationships tended not to last nearly as long as the formers. Marian had morals that no one else understood but her.

She was a natural athlete and performer, which only made her competitive and spunky. She loved the night life, but she lived for school politics and gossip. She was every boy's dream and every girl's mother. Outgoing and always smiling, respectful but always blunt, Marian was the one everyone wanted to be with.

And for some reason, she wanted to be with me.

It wasn't exactly my dream come true. Of course, I can appreciate a beautiful woman, and had no qualms with our personality differences. If there was one thing she was, it was faithful…to herself.

I remember watching her walk through school with such confidence. The provocative sway of her hips to some unheard music kept eyes leveled on her almost constantly. She was never noticed unless she wanted to be. And when she did, there was no way to ignore her, despite your best efforts.

I never really spoke to her before that shocking day. When she the Queen of Slytherin, leaned over to me on the common room couch, breath smelling like sweet blueberries and red wine, and pressed her mouth and tongue against mine. It was an intoxicating moment, and the one where I began to make my impression upon others as being a smooth, cunning young man instead of the greasy youth with his nose stuck in a book every hour of the day. I didn't change my habits, but being with Marian meant she would not allow me to soil her image. And therefore, I began to pick up more socially acceptable ways of getting on with life. Instead of skulking in a corner with my head and shoulders hunched into a book, Marian made me read next to her in front of the fire, helping me sit with my back straight as she rested between my legs and read silently with me. The warm feeling of her deep umber curls coiling against my chest and flowing with our breathing kept me alert. Marian taught me how to spar verbally, as well as physically with others. Her dueling style was impossible to copy, but the overall point behind it was always easily adapted to one's own.

It was a distracting time, when she was around. I got into fights less frequently, which is to say I never saw James Potter or Sirius Black more than one or two times all together during my fifth year. It was refreshing. Getting the scores on my O.W.L.S had been much less troublesome without those two.

Marian always encouraged me in my studies. She wasn't a terrible student herself, but she didn't want to be class Prefect (even though she was elected anyway). She wanted to be notorious for her existence as a whole, not just one aspect of her personality. This also meant she had never intended to be known as the 'Queen', either. But of course, others usually give us titles before we can give them to ourselves.

I liked that title. I liked having a powerful woman to call my own. Whether she liked to admit it or not, Marian also enjoyed being able to have that kind of power when she needed it as well. It wasn't a dictatorship or even really a Queen-dome, but rather a title she'd earned through a begrudging respect that had to be agreed upon by the majority of the House. Our 'Prince' at the time was Lucius Malfoy. Despite being twice as confident and three times more ambitious, he knew he could never hope to best her at anything. He tried for a short while. To the point of flirtatious desperation. The whole fiasco ended in Marian locking lips with his permanent girlfriend (soon to be wife) Narcissa Black, and responding that she wouldn't mind being 'shared'.

I found the whole thing rather nauseating at the time, but after my first kiss I had to believe that no one could be sane if they could turn away those soft inviting lips. So I forgave her. Every time.

I suppose the problem with forgiving someone something like that is letting them know they did something wrong to you in the first place. I had never verbally or even physically forbade her from touching anyone else. It seemed she preferred it that way, and somehow I always feigned ignorance. I could have succeeded the entire sixth year that way, if only she hadn't fraternized with the one human being that could get under my skin without ever trying.

Sirius Black had always been the bane of my existence. He was the splinter in my hand that just wouldn't be pushed out or sucked in. He refused to keep to himself, and in turn so did Marian. I don't think I'll ever hate her for it. It was an accidental attraction to begin with. Marian had disliked Sirius for a short while before the whole thing, for reasons that I believe had to do with me. She never liked it when other people took advantage of me. I didn't appreciate being thought of as someone who needed protecting, but I didn't complain when she wrapped her arms around my waist, sitting her hands low on my buttocks, pressing up against me in front of the foursome for all to see. It was a deliciously seething expression Sirius had that I shall never forget.

After all, he was a dog. I knew he wanted Marian the moment I saw him look at her. I didn't blame anyone else for staring at her like that; just him. He could rot in the bowels of every level of hell for daring to stare at my woman like that. She was not oblivious to it, which made her provoke him. I couldn't really complain about that either, no matter how much it displeased me after the fact. Provoking Sirius in such a way involved much public sexuality which was always directed at – and most of the time with – me. I enjoyed participating, mostly because it made me feel powerful. She would touch me just the right way and every nerve buzzed with adrenaline and newfound wry confidence. I felt like a man, whereas Sirius remained a boy staring at us with envy. Marian always smiled at my explanations for such activities and promised that she would do her best to keep consistent.

I suppose it was no surprise to anyone that I felt betrayed when she decided to change her tune during a nightly expedition to an underground 'party'.

Hogwarts was not known for its unauthorized activities, but Marian had this innate ability to make anything she wanted to (within reason) happen. At least once every other week there would be a 'special activity' in the lower dungeons, where anyone with the proper connections (or knowledge of the grounds tunnels) could attend without alerting the castle ghosts or professors.

It was at such a gathering where Sirius and Marian discovered an immediate attraction. Although Marian hadn't really done anything, I became instantly cold. I wanted her to have nothing to do with him and demanded that she quit making a fool of herself and her House with such things. Not to mention of course, that she was mine.

Needless to say, that conversation did not go well.

Marian has always been the stronger one between us. I made her upset and angry, and I was not making any valid points to my argument. To my surprise, she'd been expecting such a reaction from me, and wasn't infuriated at my demands, so much as the length of time it had taken me to actually be bothered enough to say something in the first place.

I won't forget those words…

"_You don't care if I'm tonguing with Lucius or Narcissa, or even Remus Lupin, Gryffindor goody-goody that he is. It's all right with you if I'm unfaithful, so long as it's with people you're not bothered with. I told you that it was going to be this way when I made you the offer two years ago, and if you wanted more, then I was prepared to give it to you, but you didn't want that, and you don't want that now. You just don't want me to make a fool of you. And you won't fight for me either. You just want me to do what I'm told and be a good housewife when school's over. _

_I'm not changing for anyone, even the man I love, Severus…even for you." _

My hands gripped the handle of my wand and pulled from my temple slowly. The memory attached to the fading wisp of silvery blue light swirled into the base of my pensieve with hushed murmurs.

I usually tried to forget memories like that. School and growing up had never been my favorite things in the world. Childhood had been especially unpleasant so I never went out of my way to think about that horrid time of my life. But where that woman was concerned – that gloriously sensual, powerful woman that I had managed to wrong too many times now to count – I never wanted to forget. I torture myself endlessly remembering and reliving those moments where she turned me into a man, and gave me my first tastes of power and pleasure combined.

Life as a traitor and double-agent has done me little good, other than to improve my ability to play with people's perceptions. It has also altered my perception of others quite a bit. I no longer believe in the honesty of a man's word unless there is an object to hold hostage for it. If you are going to take someone's word for something, than it should be the words of fools and optimists. They're always giving you the benefit of the doubt and more second chances than cat's lives.

And everything revolves around timing.

The lobby of the studio I've decided to visit is rather cool. I'm surprised that they bother to keep the complex air-conditioned while it's below 40-degrees outside. I'm waiting patiently enough, but the silence and the sanitary clean waiting room is driving my nerves to insanity. No one out here would notice, since I'm always looking unpleasant nowadays, but there it is.

Finally, the receptionist looks up from whatever Merlin-forsaken paperwork she was doing and waves me through the door. I nod and walk through without a second glance.

A woman is standing in a sound booth, mouthing words to a song that I don't know. I've never kept up with the current song trends, but I'm sure that this was a song I would have known fifteen years ago.

Especially considering the woman who was singing along to the music I could never hear.

Marian had always been lovely, and age had only made her even easier to look at. The 'cute' in her appearance had turned to 'bombshell'. She didn't even have to be blonde to do it. Her navel was pierced, showing off a square glinting jewel of rainbow hue in the light, and she was tattooed across her waistline, a Queen Cobra design that moved realistically enough to be magical, I believe. She was the epitome of the Diva that she was identified as now. Witches and Wizards on every continent respected her work and more importantly, respected the woman behind it all. She was a force to be feared and reckoned with on many occasions.

I suppose I should have been afraid.

I waited for her to finish and walk out of the booth. Marian was never surprised to see me. I don't think I'd even once seen her surprised about anything. She was usually the one who did the surprising, not the other way around.

Regardless, I couldn't help feeling a little put out by her attitude towards me. Once, she was coy and I almost dare to say, loving, towards me. Now, she is merely the shell. I was privileged in being able to see her as alive as I did so many years ago. Marian never allowed me such a thing ever again after the coming of the Dark Lord.

That campaign had been long and confusing for many people. For Marian it had been another game. I loathed her outlook on the entire thing, mostly because she and I were no longer playing on the same side anymore. Or rather, we were no longer intimately engaged in it.

Marian hadn't left me, but she'd never really come back to me after the marriage of James and Lily Potter. Sirius had asked her to come along as his 'date', and Lily had wanted her attendance as Maid of Honor. To this day, I don't know of any other woman who has worn a blood red evening gown to a wedding and gotten away with it.

I hadn't been invited to attend, but somehow found myself welcomed to the gathering on my way to another function anyway.

The ceremony had been the last foundation stone to the wall that would separate us for the remainder of our adult lives. Lily had asked her to be godmother to their first child, while James had of course asked Sirius to be the godfather. Apparently neither had been aware that the two of them were no longer engaged with each other. Sirius had made the same usual blundering that he made with all of his school-day flings. Marian had simply outgrown him. I thought she was the more mature of the two for it, but that wasn't saying much now that I could no longer lay claim to her.

Marian accepted. And I seethed.

I never wanted to ask her why. Part of me thinks it was fear of being told that the child of two people like that was worth caring for, which meant that I obviously wasn't. The other part truly believes that she did it just to cause me pain and vexation, which I have no room in my timely schedule to become concerned over. I have no desire to let her know that she could hurt me, and doing so gives her more power than she already has over people.

Marian stopped my thoughts before they began, turning around at the door to her dressing room. I'm surprised that she's actually being so civil as to let me in. I've never understood how she's able to be completely calm even under the most strenuous circumstances.

They say that Harry Potter is "The Boy Who Lived". If that is the case then he is bearing the secondary title to "The Woman Who Dared", in my personal opinion.

Marian has no fear. I don't think she even understands the concept of that basic human emotion. During the first coming of the Dark Lord, she was there anticipating the whole spectacle. I remembered her first attendance at one of the very first Death Eater gatherings.

Bellatrix, or rather Bella-bitch, as Marian likes to refer to her, has always considered herself the right-hand and somewhat consort to the Dark Lord. In truth, no one came close to the actual Queen herself. Marian would walk into the room, uncloaked, unmasked, and without fear, and take control of the audience. Not even Voldemort himself could take that from her. She would always be the deferred leader of the 'pure-blooded society'. I think he actually liked that about her.

Marian has always been a woman who could not be controlled, and the idea of 'owning' such a novelty fascinated and brought a challenging glee to him. Of course, Marian always enjoyed a good challenge.

I watched cautiously, always watching her. Marian never did become less important to me. If there is something of import to me, it would be that woman. I cannot help the way I feel when she enters a room, or speaks. No matter how outlandish or improper she decides to be.

The Dark Lord never minded the fact that you never knew what side Marian was on. Traitors were usually treated with the most fatal punishment, but for Marian it was as if you encouraged a child to act naughty. The threats never came from the Dark Lord himself, but from Bella and a few miscellaneous others. Fenrir often threatened Marian with the offer to go 'necking' sometime after midnight by the light of the full moon.

Marian would smile at him with an odd glint in her eyes. It wasn't until Fenrir publicly made the accusation of her disloyalty that I understood why.

The Dark Lord has this way of making you prove your worth between yourselves. I think it is a test of his followers, as well as a test of his own control. Just how far would we all go to prove that we were the most important to him?

Marian didn't follow through with the challenge to prove anything. In her mind there was nothing to prove, except that she was better than all of us. Whether or not she was loyal didn't matter. It was the raw fact that no matter what happened she was better, faster, and stronger than any of us. Fenrir nearly died that night, to a silver boot heel.

Marian walked me into her room, and shut the door behind us. I watched her walk to the vanity without pause and begin pinning up her curls. She was unaffected and unimpressed with me. To be frank, I'd never been very impressed with myself either. I would be lying though if I said I didn't hope for her to have some reaction to me by now. The mere fact that we have known each other almost our entire school career and adult life now should have been something.

Or maybe it just meant something to me.

"You're back." Was her only reply to my standing there by a rack full of women's flashy stage garb. I wanted to strangle her right then. Marian was beautiful, and sensual, and everything I wanted even now…but she was infuriating when she wanted to be.

I chose my words carefully, never trusting myself to speak outright. I'd done that too many times to count, and I always ended up with my foot in my mouth one way or the other.

"Obviously."

I made her smile. It's a pretty smile that really is more of a self-satisfied smirk. The top right hand corner of her lips always tilt upwards much higher than the rest when she smiles like that. I really do find that smile attractive.

And her legs, too. Those are very attractive legs. If I stood here long enough I'd end up listing just about every tiny detail of her body and even some on her personality. But as I said before, she is still the one woman I want.

She turned slightly on her stool and looked at me through the reflection of the mirror. I stared at her back, avoiding the eyes that were calculating me right now. I'd learned not to look at her eyes. Despite being able to stare down other miscellaneous terrors in my life, I could not look into those mismatched violet-green orbs. That was her one defect, if it could be considered one. Marian's eyes were not mirrored in appearance, the right being a deep emerald while the left was a pure amethyst. They were the eyes of her ancestors and a sign of old, old magic. Something that was dwindling fast in our world today.

"I don't suppose we're going to talk about anything practical, today."

"Aren't I the epitome of practical?"

That came out without my permission. I really do need to remember to guard what I say around her.

"With most applications of the word, yes, but then there's always an exception." She turned completely around this time, not so that I would look at her eyes, but so I would see the grand adornment around her neck.

A serpent as wide as my smallest finger, made of radiant white gold and accented in jade and citrus gems, wrapped around her neck with no seeming clasp or end. I couldn't look away from the stunning gift I'd given her.

I like to pretend that it was just that, a gift given and accepted freely between a man and a woman. In actuality I was looking at the first wrong I had committed against a woman I claimed to want without stipulations. It was a bond between us now that would never be forgotten.

Today, I was there to make it right.

"We all make mistakes. Even I'm not privy from that experience of growing up."

"No, you're not. But excuses don't make it better or right, anyway."

"I'm not here to argue with you."

"Of course not. That would be too troublesome." She turned again, facing the mirror once more. I was beginning to think that perhaps leaving right now would save me a whole lot of trouble. Then I realized that she was goading me. She was very good at doing that. Years of practicing at it in Quidditch had made her a professional.

I held back a sigh, and instead walked over to the vanity. I put one hand on her shoulder, keeping carefully neutral as she didn't even acknowledge it being there. There was a reason that she was Queen. Marian was unaffected and above all of the pettiness that came with people and their reactions to things. If it was important enough to warrant a reaction, then someone must be dead, being born, or getting married. There was no exception.

"I'm here to correct myself."

I sensed her still. It wasn't anything of note, but it gave me the courage to continue with what I had come here to do. I turned her around to face me, now looking deeply into her eyes. They were gorgeous gems that locked on mine with the same impassive feeling as an actual stone. I remember when there was actual feeling there, for me. No one felt for me in any form of emotion that I could recall beyond impartiality and loathing. Once upon a time, Marian looked at me fondly, like young lovers do. It was a feeling I don't think I can ever get back.

Unless I can put things right.

Kneeling down in front of her, I placed my hand on the head of the snake around her neck. It was a simple enchantment, if a strong one. The trinket was a device of the Dark Lord's creation. He had given it to me to present to her. At the time I thought nothing of it, other than a way to touch her again. I suppose even my carefully concealed desires had not gone unnoticed to the eyes of the Great Snake.

The moment I placed the deceivingly beautiful ornament on her neck, Marian had changed. I had barely noticed before but it was not something that would remain a secret to me for very long. The Dark Lord enjoyed games between his minions more so I think than actually taking control of the wizarding community.

The conquest of Marian Lanfear had been a deliciously sweet moment for him. Although he had not personally conquered her, he allowed her to be controlled by one of his own, through the means of a simple, watered down version of the Imperious Curse. It was possible to make the subject completely aware of what they were doing, while they were doing it. It made things much more interesting to watch and caused much more suffering on a conscious subject.

Marian suffered such a fate at my own hands.

It had happened the night of the fire. She had refused to have a part in the destruction of the Potter family, and flew to the sight to apprehend the Dark Lord herself. I believed that she could have too, if only I hadn't intervened. I was not sorry for going to stop her, but rather how I had unknowingly forced her to stop.

In my own personal rage, I had ordered her from her broom and to the ground. The fall she suffered in obeying such a forceful command broke her arm and bruised several ribs. What I saw there on her face then was not surprise, but rage and understanding. Marian was at my mercy and command.

And that frightened me more than anything.

I know myself to be a man of impeccable control now. But having your greatest desire handed to you on a leash to obey your every beck and call was too much for even me. The first month or so, I nearly went mad.

My first command after forcing her to stay there and watch the Potter house burn to the ground had been to remain with me, at my home.

Marian had always been an excellent lover. I'd never once thought otherwise. Although she would always be my first, and therefore the comparison of all other women, I'd never honestly found anyone else that made me desire in such a way it was painful not to be near her.

The time I'd spent concentrating on the potency of the snake collar had been my first real bliss since we'd separated in school. Marian had never complained either. She was quite considerate and didn't fight my requests, or needs. It was as if we had never been apart. She fondled and caressed me, and she let me take her as my own, claiming her over and over again fervently while I delved into her body and tasted her soul. It was this that made me finally let her go.

I couldn't explain it properly to anyone, even myself as to what made me come to the conclusion that the whole idea had to end. In the end that's exactly what it was. Falling in love all over again and pretending that they could live the happily ever after that never was through a curse that neither one acknowledged, was juvenile.

Marian left without a word, which began her first sign of cold treatment. I supposed she had been ignoring the facts as long as I was, simply to keep herself from doing anything that would be futile later. She could be very calculating and was a very good long-term schemer. This was another reason I finally let her go. I knew in time I would allow myself to trust that she would never ever think of the things that had gotten them to the place where we were, and remove the collar without a second thought.

The glint in her eyes that night, when she was in pain and actually shedding the first tears I'd ever seen her cry, were the promise of revenge so sweet that even Azkaban's dementors was too kind.

I had never missed her more. The touch of her skin, the feel of her curls against the back of my hand was all painful memories.

I wish that I could hold her that way again. To possess her again, the way I used to. It's selfish and a devious temptation, but I'm determined to do something right. I have done so many things wrong in my lifetime that there's no reason to continue, unless I can somehow obtain the things I want in life through redemption. It's always sounded too cliché to me to ever actually work, so I will probably never deviate from my current path. At least not too much.

"I have a request before-"

"You are not in a position to make requests, Severus." She spoke calmly, still unaffected by my presence at all. It was a plain accusation, and she was daring me. She knows too much about me and my temper. Marian was never one to take the cautious route, especially when her own life was on the line.

I managed to smile slightly at it though. What she meant was true. If I really desired it, I could command her to do so, and then there would be no ifs, ands, or buts about the favor. It would be done.

"I suppose you'd prefer it that way."

"Why replace an old wand when the one you're using isn't broken?"

I ignored that last bit and placed my hands over her neck, the same position I remember using to place it on her that night a few years ago. She stilled again, this time the hardening breached into her eyes and her voice.

"Don't do something you're going to regret."

I looked at her, not moving. A curious expression entered my usually unreadable face, as I realized that her hands were snaking up my chest in a seductive manner that I welcomed all too eagerly. I had been too long without her, and my body and hers had always fit so perfectly together that I was having second thoughts about what I was about to do.

"Why should I regret giving you the one thing you want and doing the right thing?"

Marian tilted her head, that small attractive smile never swaying as she brushed her face and lips over mine in a way that spoke of her wants and needs as loudly as my own. My thumbs grazed over the back of the snake on her neck lightly, and unable to resist anymore I drove my fingers through her lavish chocolate curls to bring her mouth over mine. Oh, Merlin, she always tasted like sweet red wine…

My fantasies were interrupted by a voice so severe and completely serious that I felt the chills of fear go through and beyond where my spine should have been.

"Because when the collar comes off, Severus, I'm going to kill you."


End file.
